


the art of (not) screwing a routine

by deerixiie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Mild Language, Other, crossposted to tumblr, incredibly cliché, kyotani avoids his feelings, kyotani is definitely ooc, like barely edited, lots of pining, lowercase intended, reader is class president, watari is tired, yahaba is a little shit but honestly when is he not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerixiie/pseuds/deerixiie
Summary: kyotani wakes up and decides he wants to screw the routine by confessing to you. it’s not as easy as it sounds.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader, Kyoutani Kentarou/You
Kudos: 35





	the art of (not) screwing a routine

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic on ao3 kinda nervous 
> 
> crossposted to deerixiie on tumblr

kyotani has a routine. it is as follows:

1) drag himself out of bed. (this was the hardest step.)

2) spend a ridiculous amount of time in the shower staring at nothing.

3) frantically search for his wrinkled school uniform.

3.5) find said school uniform shoved into a corner of his closet.

4.) grab something out of the kitchen and call it breakfast.

5.) go outside and walk to school with you.

step five is his favorite part, of course, because this was when he sees you, rushing out of the house despite the fact that you still have 20 minutes to spare and you live a couple blocks away from the school. you would greet kyotani with a bright “morning, taro,” and a warm smile, and then you’d fall into step with him, striking up a random conversation about a variety of topics.

the next step was one of his least favorites.

kyotani would look at you, talking animatedly and gesturing widely with your hands, and the words would fall on the tip of his tongue. dangerous words like “i love you” and “i want to be by your side forever.” and kyotani would consider saying these words and relieving the aching press on his chest, but they’d always lodge at the back of his throat. (he’d never been good with words, anyway.)

fast forward a couple hundred steps and he’s back home, tossing his school uniform in a place he’d worry about next morning and collapsing into bed.

this was the routine that had been in place in his life since his first day of junior high. every day he’d come one step closer to admitting his love for you, but the words would never come out. he’d get home, disappointed, but go through the same thing all over again the next day. rinse and repeat.

until, one day kyotani wakes up and he decides firmly that it was time to screw the routine.

* * *

screwing the routine is harder than it sounds.

in his mind he blames this on many things. one, there’s morning practice, so he couldn’t have walked to school with you that day. two, you’re in a different class, so he hasn’t gotten the opportunity to talk to you at all. three, the routine is his main enemy in this entire thing, yes, but it’s a _routine_ , meaning it’s second nature for him to stay quiet and let the life-changing confession sit at the back of his throat. four, he’s terrified and is avoiding you like the plague, but that isn’t really anyone’s fault but his.

kyotani frustratingly stabs the rice in his bento with a chopstick. _screw the routine, yeah right._

he’s eating lunch with yahaba and watari in their classroom instead of going outside to eat lunch with you, because he’s _scared_. yahaba gives him a wary glance at the sound of his random attack on his food, but continues complaining to watari about his math teacher. (watari doesn’t seem that interested in the conversation. in fact, he just looks tired.) kyotani, watari, and yahaba are probably what you called friends, but this is the type of i-just-hang-with-you-because-we’re-in-the-same-volleyball-team-and-i-have-no-one-else-to-hang-with type of friendship. this isn’t like the bond that he shared with you after knowing you for his entire life.

“hey, mad do—uh, kyotani? why aren’t you eating lunch with y/n?” watari asks, almost letting oikawa’s stupid nickname for him slip. (kyotani really doesn’t mind. it meant people avoided him.) yahaba makes an offended noise at the back of his throat at how blatantly watari was ignoring his complaints about iwasaki-sensei’s homework assignments, but he turns to kyotani curiously, awaiting his answer.

kyotani grunts something incomprehensible and continues stabbing at his rice.

yahaba and watari are very aware of where kyotani usually ate his lunch, and who he usually ate his lunch with, but that’s only because you had invited them to eat lunch with you and kyotani once. you had told kyotani something like “you need more friends” or some other bullshit when he had expressed his annoyance over this, and kyotani responded with a grumbled, “no i don’t” but he complied anyway. if it made you smile, he’d always listen.

“kyotani, i’m sorry but i don’t speak ape, what’d you say?” yahaba asks, not sounding sorry at all, and kyotani has the overwhelming urge to shove his chopsticks down yahaba’s throat. but he doesn’t, because he swears there’s a tiny you in his head, firmly declaring that he “had to be nice to them because he needs more friends.”

“oh, hi y/n!” watari says brightly.

oh.

 _shit_.

kyotani whirls around to come face to face with you, a mildly annoyed expression on your face. your eyes flicker to his, and he sees a wave of hurt that’s quickly replaced by simmering anger. kyotani doesn’t know whether to feel guilty or scared for his life.

“hi, watari-kun, yahaba-kun,” you greet sweetly, your voice dripping with practiced friendliness.

(he says practiced because he’s actually seen you practice your smile in the mirror when you were running for class president. he had been supportive of your campaign, in a quiet, mumbled, kyotani way, but he couldn’t hide the twist in his heart whenever he saw that fake smile. it slid over your face easily. it reminded him of oikawa.

kyotani frowns. did he just link _you_ to his obnoxious captain? something was seriously wrong.)

your gaze slides over to his. “hi taro,” you greet, just as sweetly as before. kyotani’s heart sinks. you never used your fake smile on him. this time, kyotani knows to feel guilty, and the guilt slides over him almost as easy as the smile slid over your face.

“hey,” he says. and then he’s just staring at you, lips dry, tongue heavy. _the_ _routine_ , his mind reminds him. _screw the routine_.

“can you-?” he jerks his head over to the doorway and you immediately understand, nodding. (you’ve always understood.)

“give us a sec,” you say, grabbing kyotani’s wrist and dragging him to the doorway. yahaba and watari blankly stare, but nod nevertheless.

once you’re in the safety of the quiet hallway you pounce, twisting on your heel so his back was almost pressed up into the wall, your face inches away from his. “why have you been ignoring me?” you demand.

and this is the part where kyotani is supposed to screw the plan. he admits that he’s ignoring you because he wants to confess to you but at the same time he doesn’t because he’s terrified, you accept his concept, maybe there’s a heated makeout scene, fireworks, credits roll. but this isn’t a damn movie and kyotani is still afraid, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he stares at his reflection in your eyes.

so instead he does what he does best. he shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away, a frown already twisting his lips downward. “i dunno,” he mumbles. screw the plan be damned.

“men,” he hears you sigh, before you take his chin and gently turn his head to face him. “kyotani kentarou,” you say, firmly. this was your authoritative, class president voice. (you _have_ used this on kyotani before, so he isn’t surprised.) “tell me what’s wrong.”

there’s something soft in your eyes that makes kyotani unravel. it’s something so warm, so comforting. kyotani so desperately wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck, wrap his arms around your back and draw you close and then just stay there. he swallows slowly and drops his gaze to the floor.

kyotani has never ever been good with words. they tumbled and tripped in his mouth, lodged in the back of his throat. he moves with actions and expressions instead: a glare and a shove was easier than saying, “i’m upset, go away,” after all.

so instead of talking kyotani moves, cupping your chin in his hand and closing the space between you with a kiss. he knows it would be your first one—you had told him once that you’d never been kissed before—so he decides it has to be the best kiss you’ll ever have. one that screams _fireworks_ and _sunsets_ and _fruity gum_ and _grass-stained knees_ and _fireflies captured in jars_. one that screams _sincerity_ , _passion_ , and _adrenaline_. one that screams _i love you, i want to be by your side forever._

he breaks apart from you with a sharp inhale of breath. “that’s… that’s why,” he murmurs, and he hopes that you understand. (inwardly he’s screaming at himself—did he really just _kiss_ you? what happens now? do you hate him?)

“kentaro,” you say slowly, eyes blown wide. your fingers ghost your lips, as if you wanted to touch them but you were afraid of the kiss going away. “did you just kiss me?”

“yes,” kyotani says dumbly, and he knows his cheeks are violent red. “are you upset?”

“no,” you whisper. your voice is soft, hesitant, as if the words are shocking you. “no, no i’m not.”

the beginnings of a smile cross kyotani’s face. “really?”

“no,” you say. “can you kiss me again?”

and he does kiss you again, and this kiss is slower, less frantic. you sigh against his lips and kyotani feels like _laughing_. is this what accepted love feels like? like you’re floating and you won’t stop?

“i love you,” he says once the kiss is over. the words don’t lodge in his throat, thank God.

“believe me, i know,” you laugh. “i love you too, dork.” and you pull him in for another kiss.


End file.
